Since You've Been Around
by Mustard Yellow Sunshine
Summary: Inuyasha has been living alone for years when his old friend, Kagome, comes for an unexpected visit. But it's not simple nostalgia motivating Kagome's trip, and Inuyasha is determined to find out exactly what she's hiding.


The night was bitter cold, even for Inuyasha. He dug his fists deep into his jacket pockets, his shoulders hunched up to his neck, bracing against the cutting winter air. Still, he preferred to wait outside the train station than inside; he could do without smelling the hundreds of overripe humans that were going to be departing the train. He'd learned that "fresh off the overcrowded train" body odor had its own distinct tinge of nasty, and it tended to cloy. Better to put up with the cold than have that scent stuck in his nose for hours.

He leaned back against the cement block walls of Hon-Atsugi Station, chin tilting up so he could better see the sky. Too much light pollution, he thought with a muttered "tch!" Only a few scattered stars were visible, tiny and muted, like looking at a handful of pebbles scattered across a field. The skyline in this part of Atsugi was hemmed in by buildings: high-rise apartments, retailers, corporate offices. Somehow the sight always made him feel fidgety, a sort of claustrophobic restlessness overtaking him.

That's why he hadn't moved to Tokyo — he could barely even tolerate the suburbs.

Still, he wondered what she would think of it when she arrived. She'd probably smile at all the "city bustle," see it as exotic and exciting.

In the distance, there came the muted rattle and whine of a train moving along its tracks. Inuyasha's ears twitched beneath the black knit beanie perched on his head, slanting towards the sound. It drew steadily closer and louder, until finally he could hear the train pulling into the station behind him. There was the metallic _shoosh_ of the doors opening—the sighing release of compressed air—then the sounds of many footsteps and voices echoing inside the building at his back.

His muscles tensed in sudden anticipation, his fingers flexing inside his pockets. He felt a weird little flip in the pit of his stomach, but he forced himself to stay where he was, leaning back against the station's exterior wall. The building's main entrance was about ten feet to his right. He'd see her when she came out.

He ignored the second flip in his stomach at the thought.

A stream of people began pouring out of the building's entrance, most of them walking with the rapid, purposeful gait of an experienced commuter, hurrying to get home after a long day at work. Inuyasha straightened, easing away from the wall, peering at every face that passed.

And then there she was.

He inhaled sharply.

She passed him, walking straight out of the station's entrance. She was moving more slowly than the surrounding crowd, pulling a rolling suitcase and scanning the area around her, obviously trying to see past the throng of bodies. She was wearing a sky blue pea coat and black skinny jeans, gray mittens and a pair of brown boots with thick rubber soles. Her long, obsidian hair fell down her back and around her shoulders in soft waves; she wasn't wearing a hat, and when she brushed her hair behind one ear, he could see the tip of it already turning red in the cold; her nose—round and blunted—was turning red too; her lips were just slightly parted, and every puff of her breath fogged the air around her mouth.

She looked exactly the same, if a little chilled.

She came to a stop and stood for a moment, craning her head around as she slowly pivoted on her feet. Then her gaze suddenly landed on his, and her face lit up in recognition. "Inuyasha!" she called, and started shouldering through the crowd towards him.

There went his stomach again.

"Kagome," he breathed out in a sigh, jerking his body forward to meet her halfway; or at least he started to, but he hadn't gotten very far when she suddenly sped up, jogging towards him like he'd disappear if she didn't hurry. She was a few strides away when she dropped her suitcase and launched herself at him, nearly knocking him back a step. His arms rose automatically, hovering in the air behind her back as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, her nose buried in the fabric of his jacket.

"I've missed you," she said against his chest, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

His heart stuttered. He hadn't seen her for over a year, and all of a sudden she was _right there_ , leaning into him, her scent filling his nose.

Haltingly, he wound his arms around her shoulders, squeezed her closer. "Back at'cha," he mumbled into her hair.

They held each other for a long moment before pulling away. She grinned up at him impishly, her dove gray eyes gleaming in the glow of streetlights. "So? What'd you think?" She held her arms out on either side of her and turned a quick circle. "Do I look different?"

He inspected her more closely—took in the slope of her cheekbones, the gently pointed chin, her full lips, the lithe line of her body—before his gaze once again met hers. Her eyes had always reminded him of snow clouds, the energy of them, how they seemed pregnant with the promise of something to come. And like clouds, her eyes could run the gamut of grays, from soft dove to flinty ash to dark slate.

Right now they were silvery pearls, staring up at him in the dim.

Fuck, he'd missed her.

"Well?" she prompted, glancing down at herself then back up at him.

The corner of his mouth lifted. "You look cold."

She propped her hands on her hips, but she was still smiling as she replied, "That's not what I asked."

He shrugged. "That's my answer."

"You're still impossible, I see," Kagome said, turning to retrieve the suitcase she'd dropped earlier.

In one quick stride, Inuyasha beat her to it, pushing down the long retractable handle in favor of the fabric grip at the top. Hefting its bulk with ease, he turned to Kagome. "Let's go."

"Inuyasha, I can take that. I bought a rolling suitcase for a reason, you know."

"Forget it. You'll tire yourself out, and I've carried grocery bags heavier than this."

Sighing, she shook her head. Then she surprised him by curling her arm through his spare one, nestling her elbow in the crook of his. At his startled glance, she simply smiled. "Lead the way!"

 _::_

* * *

 _::_

It took a bus ride and a ten-minute walk to reach Inuyasha's apartment. Kagome watched the bustle of downtown Atsugi recede into quiet residential neighborhoods, the high-rise apartments and retailers replaced by cozy walk-up apartments and family-run convenience stores.

"There's so much here," Kagome had commented on the bus, after oohing and aahing at all the people and buildings. "You probably never get bored."

Inuyasha had snorted softly. "Just as easy to get bored here as in Ogano."

She'd raised her eyebrows at him. "Impossible."

"Atsugi isn't _that_ big."

"It's huge!"

"You obviously haven't been to Tokyo."

She'd huffed at that. "I have too!"

"Since our class trip in high school?"

"Well… no, not since then. But that counts."

"Whatever you say."

What she'd wanted but hadn't dared to say was, " _You've_ obviously been away from Ogano for too long." But that subject still felt too close—too near to feelings she couldn't indulge then—and she wanted their reunion to be a cheerful one. So she'd merely bit her lip and looked out the fogged bus window.

Now, climbing the stairs to Inuyasha's apartment, Kagome felt a flutter in her stomach. It had been a year since they'd last seen each other, and now she'd be staying in his apartment for two weeks. She'd wanted it this way, of course—had very intentionally hinted to Inuyasha that she couldn't afford to stay in a hotel for that long—but that didn't mean she wasn't a little nervous about how the next two weeks would go.

She'd been waiting for this chance, and now it was here, and she didn't want to mess it up.

The entire apartment building had 12 units total, four on each storey. Inuyasha's was on the third, topmost floor, accessed by an exterior hallway bordered in the front by a small balcony. When they reached his unit, he fished his keys out of his jean's pocket and unlocked the door, motioning for her to enter first.

As she stepped inside, the nervous flutter in her stomach exploded into a frenzy.

His apartment was _tiny_.

There was one room beyond the little square of an entryway. Against the wall to her immediate left was the kitchen, nothing but a stretch of counter, a sink, a two-burner stove, and a refrigerator that looked about half the size of hers back home. Past the kitchen was a small, round wood table and a couple sitting cushions. On the right-hand side of the room, a low-framed bed hugged the corner of two walls; past the foot of the bed was a door which she assumed led to the bathroom, and past that was a set of sliding closet doors. Set in the wall directly across from the entryway was a curtained window, under which sat a worn-looking bookshelf and a TV; a two-seater couch sat in front of the television, a little side-table next to it.

That was it. Kitchenette, bed, entertainment area. All in one compact room that was smaller than her family's kitchen.

This gave "close quarters" a whole new meaning.

Kagome could feel her face heating—and not just because of the warmer air—as she exclaimed, "Oh! How cozy!"

She heard him set her suitcase down with a grunt, then kick off his shoes before moving past her into the room. "It's a place to sleep," he said.

Slipping off her boots and setting them neatly next to the door, Kagome stepped farther into the apartment and took a closer look. Simple white tile covered the floor in the entryway and in the kitchenette area, but the rest of the room had tatami mat flooring. The tatami felt soft and comfortable under Kagome's sock-covered feet. In the corner next to the table, a space-heater quietly hummed as it warmed the room. There was nothing on the walls, but the space didn't need it: wall decorations would've made the tiny room feel even more cramped. Glancing around, Kagome noted with some surprise how clean everything was. No piles of clothing, no drifts of dust, no stains on the tatami, really no clutter to speak of beyond some dishes soaking in the kitchen sink..

Smiling, Kagome began to unbutton her coat. "No, really Inuyasha, it's cozy. I like it. It feels like you, somehow."

He was leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms folded across his chest, watching her examine his space. "Feels like me?" he repeated with a soft hint of sarcasm. "You're such a girl."

"Yeah, well, you're such a butthead," she quipped, balling up her jacket and tossing it at his head. Unsurprisingly, his hand shot out and he caught it well before it could hit his face.

Smirking, he laid her coat on the kitchen counter. "You throw like a girl, too."

"Shut it."

Pulling the black beanie off his head—his ears flicking several times as though enjoying their release—he placed it on the counter next to her coat, and asked, "You want anything to drink? Anything to eat?"

"No, thank you, I'm fine."

A beat of silence passed, in which they simply stood there, staring at each other from a few feet's distance. As it stretched on, Kagome couldn't help feeling that the tenor of the silence was… a little odd. She shifted on her feet, wet her lips, and had to fight herself just to maintain each second of eye contact with the man she'd known since she was five. Inuyasha had always been someone she felt utterly comfortable with, whatever they happened to be doing, even if they were just sitting silently together. And while she didn't exactly feel _un_ comfortable, the moment felt strange, _charged_ , as though the air around them was slowly thickening.

Of course, given why she'd come here in the first place, it was no surprise it felt that way to _her_. But what about him? He certainly didn't look uncomfortable, slouched back against the kitchen counter and staring at her with a steadiness that was almost unnerving.

She cleared her throat. "Thank you so much for letting me stay with you."

Inuyasha dismissed her thanks with quick wave of his hand. "It's not a problem."

"All the same, I really appreciate it." She clasped her hands behind her back and rocked onto the balls of her feet, finally allowing herself to break eye contact by sending another quick glance around the room. Despite herself, she could feel her cheeks heating when she said, "It's just—I didn't know..." One of her hands rose to fiddle with her hair, twisting a section of it around her fingers. "I feel like I should apologize. If I had known how small your place is, I never would have—"

"You wouldn't have tried your best to guilt-trip me into hosting you?" Harsh as the words were, his tone was amused rather than annoyed, the beginnings of a smirk twitching at his lips. "Don't worry about it."

"I—!"Face positively radiating heat now, Kagome sputtered, "I did _not_ —"

"Oh yes you did. Come on, Kagome," he shook his head with a mock sigh, "you think I don't know all your tricks by now? Not that you were very subtle about getting yourself invited." His voice rose to a falsetto as he mocked, "'I would _love_ to come visit you, Inuyasha, _but_ hotels are _so_ pricey there…'" He stretched the words 'but' and 'so' into at least six syllables each.

"I did not sound like that!" she huffed, stomping over to slap at his arm.

"You did, too. You dropped so many hints I thought you'd throw your back out."

"Inuyasha!"

He chuckled, far too entertained by her embarrassment, and reached out to flick a finger against her forehead, like he used to do when they were teenagers.

"Stupid," he muttered, smirk fading, but there was a trace of affection in his tone that made her throat feel strangely thick. She swallowed nervously, and nearly let out a squeak when his eyes darted down to follow the motion. It was quick, his eyes back on hers faster than a blink, but she knew she hadn't imagined that warm, golden attention.

Maybe the close quarters would be a good thing.

Another beat of silence, and then he shoved away from the counter, ambling over to the two-seater couch. "Don't worry about the space," he said, plopping down onto one of the cushions, "we'll be fine. It's just a couple weeks. You'll have the bed, and I'll sleep right here." He patted the couch cushion beside him. "It's got a fold-away bed."

She followed him to the couch, sitting next to him and absolutely _not_ noticing how close his thigh was to hers. "I can't take your bed, Inuyasha. I'll sleep on the couch."

"You're taking the bed."

She shook her head. "I'm taking the couch."

He folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes at her. "My apartment, my bed, my rules. You're sleeping on the bed."

"No."

"Yes."

She opened her mouth to object again, but he cut her off with, "Save your breath, it's already decided."

Her cheeks puffed out as she blew a gusty breath through her mouth, the sound pure exasperation. "Anyone ever tell you that you're more stubborn than a mule?"

He smirked. "Keep that in mind the next time you wanna argue with me."

It wasn't fair how attractive he was when he smirked like that.

They fell into another silence, this one more companionable. Inuyasha was watching her again, his posture slouched and relaxed, at ease.

She smiled, reached up and gently tugged on one of his ears. "It's really good to see you, Inuyasha."

When they were teenagers, he would've grumbled and slapped her hand away. But he didn't do either. He leaned forward just a little, eyes apparently glued to hers.

 _It's just not fair_ , she thought faintly as he opened his mouth.

"You have no idea, Kagome."

 _::_

* * *

 _::_

The next morning, Inuyasha woke to the crackling sounds of food frying in a pan. It was accompanied by a feminine voice humming softly somewhere behind him. His ears twitched, a frown tugging at his brows as his mind struggled through morning grogginess, trying to register why a woman was in his apartment and apparently making him breakfast.

Then he inhaled, and an achingly familiar scent drifted to his nose.

Oh, right. Kagome.

Yawning, he slowly sat up and stretched his arms above his head—noting a slight crick in his neck, courtesy of the lumpy fold-away bed—before twisting his torso around to watch Kagome in the kitchen. Dressed in jeans and a slouchy gray sweater, she was standing in front of the tiny stove, gripping the handle of a frying pan in one hand and holding a spatula aloft in the other.

"Rats," she murmured to herself, "broke the yoke."

Then she glanced over at him, startling a little to see him awake and staring at her. "Oh, you're up!"

"What are you doing?"

"Making breakfast, of course!"

He inhaled again, and his mouth actually began to water at the savory smells permeating the apartment. "Is that natto?"

"Yep!" she chirped as she flipped an egg over in the pan. "And rice, eggs, and miso." She indicated a simmering pot on the stove's second burner, steam wafting up from its contents. His rice cooker sat on the counter next to it, along with a container of steaming natto. "It'll be ready once I'm done with these eggs."

He stood up from the fold-away bed and shuffled over to her, leaning over the stove to eye the bubbling miso. "Did you develop some kind of food magic since I last saw you?" he asked, sweeping his arm to indicate the dishes of food, "Because I know for a fact I didn't have any of this shit in my kitchen."

"Oh yeah, I can turn dust bunnies into food. Didn't I tell you?" She rolled her eyes, lips quirking up at the corners. "It's called a grocery store, dingus. Ever heard of it?"

"You went grocery shopping?" His eyebrows rose in surprise. "But I didn't hear you leave the apartment."

She turned off the stove, moving the egg pan off the burner as she replied, "You were pretty much dead to the world. It wasn't hard to slip out without waking you."

He found it vaguely disquieting that she'd managed to do all that without alerting him—typically, anything louder than a gentle breeze woke him up—but he was much too interested in food to give it further thought.

"You didn't have to do this," he said, even as his stomach audibly gurgled, the bastard. "I usually just grab a power bar or something."

She smiled. "Oh, trust me, tomorrow it's back to cold, stale pizza for breakfast. Your favorite thing to eat when we were in high school, if I remember right." She nudged him with her elbow. "Can you get out some plates?"

"Bossy, bossy," he tsked, grinning at her pronounced scoff. He opened one of his cabinets and pulled out two bowls, plus a set of smaller soup bowls for the miso, and grabbed some chopsticks from a drawer. He set them down next to her, and she started scooping out the food.

Once everything was dished out, he helped her carry the food to the table, where they both plopped down onto adjacent cushions.

Inuyasha groaned at the first taste of the eggs and rice. "Fuck, this hits the spot. Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replied, slurping from her bowl of miso. "Your kitchen is a disaster, by the way. Nothing is where it should be, and the only food I could find was instant ramen and fish jerky. It's totally obvious you never cook."

"Oi, there's nothing wrong with my kitchen."

"It's the literal worst."

"Every bachelor in Japan has a kitchen like mine."

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes again, "my little brother knows how to cook and _he's_ still in high school."

"Like that counts. Anyone raised by _your_ mother would know how to cook."

"Then what's your excuse?" she teased, scooping a bite of natto into her mouth.

He opened his mouth to retort, then paused, fighting off the sudden urge to grin. Mrs. Higurashi had practically raised Inuyasha. He'd spent so much time at their house as a kid, he may as well have been another son. She'd cooked extra food for every family meal, silently expecting him to be there; she'd given him haircuts, done his laundry, and never once batted an eye when she found him asleep on Kagome's floor most mornings. She never told him off for sneaking through Kagome's window at night—though he was sure she'd known about it from the beginning—but she _did_ buy a cot that she surreptitiously placed in Kagome's room.

He still wondered, sometimes, how she'd known that the Higurashi home was his lifeline. He'd never breathed a word of his home life to her—had only begrudgingly shared it with Kagome, because she was a stubborn pain-in-the-ass who never dropped anything—but Mrs. Higurashi had obviously understood Inuyasha's need to be there.

After a moment, Inuyasha shrugged and shoveled rice into his mouth to hide his twitching lips. "I obviously ain't starving, so it's a wash."

"Just you wait, once Mama finds out you're living on instant ramen, she'll start sending you weekly care packages."

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes at Kagome's pointedly-innocent expression. "What, are you a mole for your mom or something?"

She ignored him and loudly slurped her miso.

"Keh!"

They finished their breakfast in silence. After she'd eaten her fill, Kagome slid her bowl away from her and leaned her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her hands, eyelids lowering in that lazy way they did after a satisfying meal. Weak winter light filtered in through the window, falling across the crown of her head, highlighting the subtle blue undertones of her dark hair. Watching her, Inuyasha could almost forget that they weren't still teenagers sitting in the kitchen of the Higurashi's home, putting off homework and arguing about which shitty movie to watch that night.

His gaze dropped down, and he eyed her frame. Of course, Kagome was looking a lot more… er, _mature_ now than she had back then, so maybe it wasn't so hard to forget.

His gut tightened uncomfortably, and he frowned. Something inside him soured at the reminder of how much time had passed since they'd last seen each other, and how odd it was to have her here in Atsugi.

Perhaps sensing his shift in mood, Kagome glanced over at him and offered a smile. He opened his mouth, intending to ask what she had planned for the day. But different words erupted out of him, abrupt and confused.

"What the hell are you doing here, Kagome?"

Her posture stiffened, and she sat up straight. "What do you mean? I'm visiting you, of course."

He crossed his arms over his chest, frown deepening. "Stop playing dumb," he said softly, "you know what I mean. Why did you _have_ to stay with me, and for two straight weeks? Why not just come up for a night or two? Especially after a year of nothing but phone calls and emails? Why the sudden urgency?"

Her face flushed a little, and she looked down at her lap, where she was fidgeting with her fingers. An old nervous tic.

"I—" she said, "I just… missed you. A lot. I wanted to see you."

She sounded sincere, and he didn't doubt that she was, at least about that. But her obvious discomfort told him there was more to the story.

"And?"

She still wouldn't look him in the eye. "And nothing."

He sighed, an exasperated sound. "Who do you think you're kidding? You didn't just up sticks and leave for two weeks because you missed me."

She didn't respond, but she did scowl down at her lap.

"So what is it?" he prodded, leaning forward to catch her eye. "Did you have a fight with your mom?"

She lifted her head, finally aiming her scowl at him and meeting his gaze.

"Are you hiding from a bad break up or something?"

Her eyebrows flew up and still somehow pinched in the middle, scandalized outrage practically dripping off her face. "Do you hear yourself? No! I'm not _hiding_ , and there's no breakup!"

"Then—"

"Ugh," she growled, "okay, just shut up for a second!" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose, opening her stormy gray eyes again to glare at him. "Jeez, do you interrogate everyone who comes to see you, or is it just me?"

He leaned back and cocked an eyebrow. "You're special. Now start talking."

"I should poke out your eye with my chopstick."

"Keh! Try it, see how far you get."

She rolled her eyes and gave an aggravated huff, "Oh good, I see the mature part of the day has started."

He just stared at her, arms crossed, drumming his fingers against a bicep.

She sighed, still rather huffy. "All right, fine. There's another reason I came here." She hesitated, biting at her lip for a moment before continuing, "You… you know that grandpa's been sick…"

A stab of alarm shot through Inuyasha's chest. "Is he—?"

"He's fine," she rushed to assure him, "or at least, he's no worse than he's been for the past year. Actually, last month we were finally able to bring him home from the hospital. A nurse comes to check on him a few times a week, and Mama and I take care of everything else…" She trailed off, gaze distant. After a moment, she seemed to shake herself out of it. "It's just… Mama practically lived with him in the hospital while he was there, which left me to take care of things at home. Someone had to run the shrine, and be there for Sōta—he might be older now, but he's still just a teenager. And since grandpa's been back from the hospital, the work hasn't really let up. There's more of it now, if anything."

Kagome bit her lip again, and some emotion—one Inuyasha couldn't really place—pinched her face. "I don't mind doing it," she murmured. "Grandpa and Mama both need help. But I guess… Mama started to worry that it was too much strain for me. She thought I should take a break, get away for awhile." She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, and gave Inuyasha a wane laugh. "You know how Mama gets when she sets her mind on something. So I agreed to get away for a bit, to make her happy. I figured I might as well get to see you in the bargain."

Inuyasha sat silently for a moment, processing that. He watched Kagome as she rubbed her hands over her jean-clad legs, her teeth still worrying at her lower lip. Her posture and her scent fairly radiated nerves, and he had the distinct feeling that she was _still_ leaving something out.

Finally he said, "Why didn't you tell me that from the beginning? When you first called?"

"I didn't want to worry you over nothing."

"It doesn't sound like _nothing_ to me," he growled, without real heat. He leaned forward and reached his hand across the table, gripping her wrist where it rested in her lap. "Is gramps okay?" He hesitated, then added, "Are _you_?"

There was that pinching emotion again, flashing across her face in an instant, then just as quickly gone. "Grandpa is… he's not exactly _better_ , but at least he's home, and as comfortable as we can make him."

Inuyasha squeezed her wrist, and she rested her free hand on top of his.

"And I'm fine," she added in an undertone, her gray eyes steady on him. "I'm… really glad to see you, Inuyasha."

He knew there was more—probably a lot more—that she hadn't told him. His gut said that she was hiding something.

But by the sounds of it, he had her to himself for two weeks, so he wasn't really worried about it. He'd get it out of her soon enough.

He squeezed her wrist again, his thumb gently stroking her skin.

"Me too, Kagome."

 _::_

* * *

 _::_

 **A/N:** This story is dedicated to my friend, EnelyaTheSmall (aka lacyjaybird over on Tumblr). It was originally supposed to be a birthday gift, but uh... *coughs* I'm the slowest writer alive, so it's a little late for that now. I'm just gonna call it a Happy-I-Met-You gift, because Lacy is biggedy baller and I love her.

This story will probably be two chapters long, three tops.

Hope you enjoy!


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